Parterre: In Between
by Psycha Dea
Summary: Two weeks ago Deanna and Beverly stood on the threshold of a new relationship, but the doctor backed away. Now the situation is starting to demand its toll from the counselor and what was supposed to be a relaxing poker game turns into something much more
1. Part One: A Friendly Face

**Parterre:**** In Between**

_Author:_ Psycha  
_Codes:_ T, R  
_Rating:_ K+ (to be upped along the way)  
_Timeframe:_ just after _The Nth Degree_, two weeks after _Parterre  
Disclaimer: _It's all fun and games until someone gets paid… which I'm not.  
_Author's Note:_ I promised the next _Parterre_ installment around Christmas. This isn't it, sorry. I hope this brief, three (or maybe four) chapter story, will tie you guys over for a bit until I get more of the actual story written out (so far it's just a bunch of stand-alone scenes that need to be tied together). Enjoy!

_Summary:_ Two weeks ago Deanna and Beverly stood on the threshold of a new relationship, but the doctor backed away. Now the situation is starting to demand its toll from the counselor, and what was supposed to be a relaxing poker game turns into something much more.

* * *

_Time cools, time clarifies; no mood can be maintained __  
quite unaltered through the course of hours.  
__**Mark Twain**_

**====  
Part One: ****A friendly face  
====**

Deanna Troi stomped through the corridors of the Enterprise D. Though normally not one to show her emotions – least of all the kind she was experiencing now – her control came up short this day. For the last three hours she'd been counseling a certain crewmember who struggled to deal with their latest mission. Her 'date' with Reginald Barclay earlier that day had been a nice change of pace, but couldn't replace the psychological help and support the engineer needed.

That alone wasn't the main cause of her current mood. No, that particular honor went to a certain redhead. As soon as she'd realized that her feelings for Beverly were no longer just friendly, she'd been perfectly aware those feelings might not be returned or appreciated.

They'd been so close to crossing the line just two short weeks ago. She could still feel the woman's lips on hers and found herself struggling to maintain the easygoing attitude she'd resigned herself to. To make matters worse, whatever had happened that night had created a bond between them. It was nothing like the one she once shared with Will Riker and its nature still eluded her.

What didn't elude her, were Beverly's feelings. Night or day, she could sense the doctor. Even her dreams were haunted by what she sensed through this new bond and it was driving her crazy. Never before had she been in a situation like this one. In love with someone who shared her feelings, but who wouldn't act on them.

It amazed her that they could still work together professionally. The redhead's anxiety around her was almost painful and her own frustration grew each day. She had to do _something_, but what?

"Hey Dea, wait up!" Though she didn't feel like it, she held her step and allowed Will to catch up with her. "Did you meet the captain's guest?"

Smiling a welcome she briefly studied his face. Keen interest and amusement tickled her mind, tinged by just a little surprise and attraction. "Vash?"

"Yeah," he stroked his beard as they rounded another corner. It made her feel old to remember him without one. Fresh faced and eager. He never took no for an answer. Perhaps she should channel a little Will 'The Thrill' Riker and chase the beautiful redhead? "She doesn't seem to be his type, does she?"

He followed her into her quarters without asking. She hadn't seen much of her friends off duty lately, too preoccupied with personal issues. They came to a halt in her living area. Face to face in the dim light of little used quarters. "What type is that?"

"I don't know. She just seems a little…disrespecting."

Deanna moved to sit down, but changed her mind. She'd been sitting all day. "Are you sure? Maybe she just likes to challenge him."

He chuckled. "Maybe. She reminds me of Beverly that way."

Silently she agreed. She'd only spoken to the visiting archeologist briefly, but had recognized a lot of qualities shared with the doctor. Good looks, yes, but mostly personality traits. Both women hid their insecurities by an almost intimidating mask of confidence. They were stubborn, driven, willing and able to face what life threw them without backing down. Those qualities attracted Picard, though Deanna was certain Vash's apparent disrespect for history and culture precluded a lasting relationship. In Beverly the captain had found a kindred spirit, someone he loved dearly but would never pursue because of their shared history. He thought about it, certainly, but always held back. A sigh escaped her.

"Are you alright?"

A little embarrassed she'd forgotten Will's presence, she nodded. "Yes. It's just been a long day." His earlier amused made place for concern as he eyed her carefully.

"You sure? You've been a little distant lately."

Almost she told him. She could use his advice, his support. Hell, talking to anyone would make her feel better at this point. Who counsels the counselor? The chief medical officer, usually, but things hadn't been 'as usual' in weeks. With a quick shake of her head, she allowed him a peek into her mind. He understood the hint and his arms closed around her. The warmth of him felt so familiar that she could finally relax a little. He didn't question, at least not verbally and just held her. As comforting as it was, after a just a brief minute she realized that Will's arms were a poor substitute for what – or rather who – she really wanted.

When she pulled away he caught her eyes. "Want to talk about it?"

"Yes," she answered earnestly, "but I can't."

A moment of understanding passed. They were Starfleet officers and she had a confidentiality duty to her patients. Some things couldn't be shared.

Had her feelings concerned anyone else, she could've confided in him. Could've bared her heart and appreciated his advice. But this was Beverly, a mutual friend and someone Will Riker would always consider off limits because of her complicated relationship with captain Picard.

The truth was she did feel a little guilt over that. A part of her couldn't help but feel she was somehow coming between the doctor and captain. Though certain neither of them truly wanted a relationship, the nagging feeling remained. As their friend and counselor, as an empath, she knew exactly how complicated and confusing their feelings for one another were.

His blue eyes, a shade or two darker than Beverly's, smiled at her before he pressed a quick kiss on her lips. "My quarters in two hours."

"What?"

"It's pokernight."

"Oh Will," it was sweet of him, really, but she just wasn't in the mood to socialize. Perhaps an extended meditation routine would revitalize her downtrodden mood. "I'm sorry, but-"

He silenced her with a finger against her lips. "No excuses Dea, I'll see you then."

He left before she could object and she didn't have the heart to call after him. This was his way of looking out for her and she loved him for doing so. Perhaps she would actually enjoy it.


	2. Part Two: Playing Nice

****

Parterre: **In Between**

_Author:_ Psycha  
_Codes:_ T, C, crew  
_Rating:_ K+ (to be upped along the way)  
_Timeframe:_ just after _The Nth Degree_, two weeks after _Parterre  
Disclaimer: _It's all fun and games until someone gets paid… which I'm not._  
Summary:_ Two weeks ago Deanna and Beverly stood on the threshold of a new relationship, but the doctor backed away. Now the situation is starting to demand its toll from the counselor, and what was supposed to be a relaxing poker game turns into something much more.

_Author's Note:_ Watch out for several switches in POV in this chapter. I used to write like this all the time, but since Parterre was written solely from Beverly's perspective, I've kind of forgotten how to do it right, so hopefully I didn't mess up (too badly) here. Have fun!

* * *

_Time cools, time clarifies; no mood can be maintained __  
quite unaltered through the course of hours.  
__**Mark Twain**_

====  
**Part Two: Playing Nice  
**====

Deanna glanced at her cards. Like the previous two rounds, she was staring at a hand that would only facilitate bluffing and she had little illusions about winning. Still, it was nice to play the game again.

The host tonight, Will, wasn't having his most successful game either, but in spite the sour face he put on, she could tell he was enjoying the presence of his friends too much to let the bad cards effect his mood.

Riker was a social man by nature and she felt a little guilty about not attending their weekly poker games lately. She knew, through Will, that Beverly hadn't attended either and their last missions had interfered more than once with this social, off duty gathering.

Tonight Worf and Data were the two main players. Each of them had consistently good cards since the beginning of the evening. Experience however, had taught all of them to be weary of streaks of good fortune.

Reginald Barclay was, as she expected, the topic of the night. The extraordinary mission that had transformed the engineer for a run-of-the-mill human – be it with more psychological issues than most – into an unequalled genius. Right now Geordi was in engineering still trying to figure out how his colleague had been able to integrate himself so thoroughly with the ship's computer.

She was about to answer Will's ribbing over her date with Reg, when the doors opened and Geordi LaForge more or less bounced in. She had to smile at the helpless amusement he radiated, apparently stumped by the technological wonders Barclay had revealed and consequently forgotten. "Look what I found roaming the hallways," he announced excitedly before any of them got a greeting in and reached out into the corridor. Deanna froze when she realized who Geordi was dragging along. Judging by the doctor's expression, Beverly hadn't expected to see her either. Though the redhead came in with a smile, it disappeared as soon as their eyes met. Anxiety that wasn't her own clouded Deanna's senses and it took her a few seconds to compose herself.

Will, being the host, quickly offered the trapped doctor a seat between himself and Worf. Deanna moved over next to Data to make place for Geordi, leaving the two women in the company to face each other from opposite ends of the table.

The evening progressed slowly. After three valiant attempts to escape, Beverly had resigned herself to enjoying the game. Lady Fortuna indeed switched sides and after winning a few hefty hands for Troi, moved on to LaForge and then Crusher.

Beverly – to Deanna's relief – had finally relaxed and played the most balanced game; never winning or losing much. While Will was grilling Geordi about a newly transferred engineer and Worf and Data were discussing the Klingon mating ritual in lieu of Data's recent interest in romantic relationships, the two women were quietly observing each other.

"How's Wesley?"

The question cut through the stand-off, but for a moment didn't appear sharp enough to slice through Crusher's anxiety. The doctor tried to gauge the intention of her friend, but relented after a moment. Second-guessing everything didn't do anyone any favors and Deanna was still her friend. She hoped. "He's doing great, but I think his expectations of the Academy were a little high." Deanna smiled and for a moment Beverly felt herself freefalling. This was crazy. But that smile…

"He does have a few experiences that are going to be tough to beat."

As usual, whenever someone mentioned the Enterprise –directly or indirectly –Riker's attention was drawn instantly. He laughed briefly and tossed two chips on the growing pile in the middle. "That's one way to put it. Nothing beats the E."

Worf grunted in approval, but couldn't prevent Data from launching into a dissertation about all the near fatal missions their home had seen. It was Deanna who gently interrupted his monologue, to everyone's relief. So shortly after a dangerous mission, no one liked to be reminded of their mortality.

"I loved being at the Academy," Geordi offered, "it was nice to be planet side for a while."

"I couldn't wait to get out in space."

Beverly harrumphed. "Why doesn't that surprise me, Will?"

The commander shrugged but his reply was cut off by LaForge. "And it was great being away from mom and dad."

The others chuckled.

"That exactly why I couldn't wait to ship out. My old man and I weren't getting along that great back then."

Deanna raised her eyebrows at her former lover. "Back then, huh?"

"I have noticed," Data observed, "that many humans contribute their choices in life, especially those made in adolescence, to their parents. Do they not make their own choices?"

"Why did you go to the Academy Data?"

He considered counselor Troi's question for exactly two thirds of a second. "I was rescued by Starfleet officers. It was the most logical choice."

"And what would doctor Soong have thought of your decision?"

"He approved." With the same clarity and certainty he remembered everything else - even the Paxan-incident he was ordered never to discuss again - Data saw Soong's face, every line and dimple, when his creator learned of his choice in career, so vastly different than the choice Lore had made. And though Data did not feel emotions, or understood them on any but a textbook level, he knew Soong had been pleased. Perhaps even proud. He glanced around the table, observing his friends - for they were his friends even if he could not classify the human interpretation of such relationships - and realized that his creator's approval had altered the mathematical outcome of his choice-analysis. Curious.

"I bet you breezed through the Academy," Commander Riker commented.

"Breezed?"

"He means the Academy courses must have been easy for you, Data."

"Oh. I had to retake thirty-seven percent of all assignments and examinations."

Will couldn't hide his surprise. "Which ones?"

The android cocked his head, aware that all but Troi and LaForge showed emotions he could classify as surprise. His mouth already opened, he quickly rerouted one of his speech-subroutines to implement counselor Troi's recent suggestions on humanizing his speech patterns. "Mostly," the word was inadequate and lacked necessary information he desired to provide to his colleagues, but he knew they did not require details to understand his thought, "assignments in teamwork or psychological in nature."

"I'm afraid Wesley is going to struggle in those areas as well," Beverly admitted with a sigh fitting for a worried mother. "He's learned a lot here, maybe a little too much to not come off as a know-it-all and alienate his classmates."

The discussion stayed on Wesley for a few more rounds. Not surprising, Counselor Troi assessed, since the boy had become a bit of a group project. Though his father had died when he was just five, he and his mother found a new family onboard the Enterprise. Headed, of course, by strict mentor Jean-Luc Picard and supplemented by a handful of crazy uncles.

Wesley would do just fine at the Academy. Sometimes Deanna wondered if the Academy was what Wesley truly wanted. She knew from personal experience that wanting to please a parent – especially after the death of the other – could be so ingrained in a child it disguised itself as true passion. Not that it mattered, really. For now Wesley did enjoy being at the Academy and all the knowledge and experience accumulated there would keep his eager intellect occupied for times to come.

His mother was coping better than she'd expected with the absence of her only son. She watched her friends as they offered advice and support, but did no more. Beverly was at ease and even enjoying herself, but only because Deanna's presence was –deliberately- unobtrusive.

She thought she was fine with that, but as the discussion shifted, it became poignantly clear the doctor was all but ignoring her, going as far as mock flirting with Riker to steer clear of an uncomfortable silence between them.

Both Data and Will folded, leaving Deanna the only contender to Beverly's three round reign. In a bold move, the counselor met Crusher's earlier raise of a hundred and added fifty credits of her own. Beverly moved to throw her cards down.

"Aw come on doc, giving up already?" Perhaps a little flirting of her own would get some results.

The other woman froze, then grimaced. "My cards just aren't that good."

"Somehow I doubt that," Deanna countered sweetly, she was pretty sure the doctor's gleeful grin just moments ago meant the woman had excellent cards. "don't you want to play?"

"Fine." If Deanna insisted on playing, she would give the counselor a run for her credits. Empath or not. Beverly threw her chips onto the pile, determined not to back down. "I'll raise another fifty."

"A hundred," was the casual reply.

Adding more chips to the pile, the redhead crossed her arms. "Why play when you know my cards are better?"

Troi continued the game and smiled gently at her opponent. "I never said that. I just pointed out yours are good." Hers were in fact pretty much the same as the first few rounds: useless. But no one else knew that.

"Very well, I'll meet your hundred and raise by another two."

The challenge in Beverly's voice surprised the counselor, but she enjoyed it. This spirited woman was the one she'd fallen for and in a childish moment, she chose to antagonize the woman further. "I didn't think you'd take the risk."

Her temper awoken, Crusher met the challenge head on. "Some cards are worth the risk."

"Ladies…" Worf quickly silenced the engineer. Perhaps humans were foolish enough to think they could handle a woman's temper. He knew better. Besides, this was _interesting_.

While raising the bet, Troi responded before she could help herself, in a tone few had heard before. "Perhaps you need to rethink your priorities Beverly."

"Thank you, Counselor," the reply came in the same icy voice, "but I'm quite happy with my priorities the way they are."

Nonplussed about this most unusual interaction, Data recorded it all, determined to ask Troi and LaForge for insights later. If not occupied with the verbal sparring and observing the rules of the game, a glance at the counselor's cards would have raised more questions for the android.

As it did for Riker, who took the opportunity to look at both women's hands now that they were so occupied with each other.

"Yes. I can sense that." In the silence that followed, sarcasm hung heavily in the air.

Beverly placed her cards face down on the table and stood up. "Congratulations. Now get the hell out of my head Deanna."

The men all held their breaths as the doctor stormed out. Then Will turned to Deanna, concerned over his friends' uncharacteristic behavior. But before he could voice his question, the counselor too left the room, albeit more calmly than the doctor had.

Not knowing what else to do, Geordi timidly reached over and turned each set of cards, revealing Beverly's royal flush and Deanna's pair of two's.


End file.
